this is your brain w/o worms

we could be the bbq girlfriend gender
but we're busy trying to find a midnight. 
licking our fingers. balance is held
in the gore of it all. strawberry gutted,
i walked right into the bear trap.
in the doctor chair he pulls out
a magnifying glass & presses it to my ear.
as a child, my uncle liked to torture me
with a story about worms that came
& ate your brain while you slept.
he said, "they crawl in through your ear."
awake with a can of bug spray,
i'd keep vigil over my head. maybe this is
when i started not sleeping. i confess this all
to the doctor who is wearing a mask.
he takes off the mask & reveals he is
just a collaboration of worms. he says,
"do not be afraid" stealing the language
of angels. i do not want to be emptied.
the doctor takes a picture though
& shows me that my brain is already 
full of insects. i feel suddenly at peace.
sometimes when you fear something
for so long, it can feel like an exhale for
it to actually come to pass. here i am
with my whole gender ahead of me.
all my napkin girlness & my boy teeth.
"what do i do to take care of them?"
i ask & the doctor hands me a music box.
"sing each full moon," he instructs. 
i take my bugs & me into the street.
there, everyone is eating their own 
wheel of cheese. i worry now in the opposite direction.
what if the bugs decide to leave
& i am turned into a hand puppet?
i ask the worms in my quiet voice,
"you like it here, right?" they answer 
with demands for baja blast.
i can do that, i think. i can do that. 
we have a drive-through hymn. 
briefly, then, they are satisfied.